


Kolbjörn

by ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong (Sagnessagiel)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Chronically ill Mik, Fluff, Ikea shenanigans, M/M, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 13:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagnessagiel/pseuds/ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong
Summary: Birthday fic for Oliver, who asked for domesticity and chronically ill Mikleo.The boys build a cabinet/shelf together.





	Kolbjörn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oliver__Niko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliver__Niko/gifts).



“This is all pictures.” Sorey squints at the pamphlet in his hands. “How can they confuse me more than words?”

Mikleo chuckles and it makes him look up and smile despite his annoyance. Mikleo sits next to him, gently spreading the pieces of what will soon be a cabinet/shelf over the floor. 

They sit in Mikleo’s living room, on the carpet because the pamphlet insists. The pamphlet always insists on working on carpets. The coffee table whose spot they now occupy has been pushed off to the side of the love seat behind Mikleo, giving them ample space to build. 

“It is the curse,” Mikleo says solemnly. “None shall escape it, and none shall come out unscathed.”

“Do you think that was the point when Ingvar founded it?”

Sorey looks at Mikleo who looks at Sorey, confused. 

“Who?”

“Ingvar Kamprad,” Sorey says as though it is obvious. He is man enough to admit that he is probably butchering the name. “The founder of IKEA.”

Mikleo blinks. His mouth twitches, and it looks as though he might laugh. 

“How do you know that?”

Sorey shrugs. “What, you never fell down a Wikipedia hole?” He reaches for the little plastic bag full of screws and tears into it using his teeth. 

“Stop it.” Mikleo takes it from him carefully and tears into it with his nails. “You’re going to ruin your teeth.”

Sorey hums and flips a page of the pamphlet. 

“What is this thing even?” He points to an image of one of the smaller components meant to hold the shelf together (or maybe the cabinet, what does he know?). Mikleo leans over to look at it. 

“I…” He looks between the pamphlet and the pile. There really is no way of telling what that component does just from a look. “I have no idea.”

Sorey turns pages until he finds another image of it. 

“I…” He tilts his head. “I guess you fold it over itself? I don’t see where you’re supposed to put it, though.”

Mikleo stares at the pamphlet, then at the pile, and back at the pamphlet. He picks up the piece in question, a little plastic thing that looks like three squares melted together. 

“I think you stick it under the legs,” he says, and it sounds more like a question than a statement. Sorey shakes his head. Making sense of this alone feels like rocket science. 

“Let’s just take this one step at a time. I’m sure we’ll figure out what we did wrong when it all turns out crooked.”

He grins and Mikleo smiles at the joke. 

“Something tells me my new bit of furniture will just be a half finished shelf on my carpet,” he says. 

“Don’t worry,” Sorey says. “I’ll drag Sergei over to fix it if that happens.”

It turns out that they do know how to read pictures after all, because it goes smoothly for some time. This is cause for some celebration, which quickly turns into a solemn high five every time something falls snugly into place. They work quietly, and the cabinet part begins to come together. Then comes the thin little bookcase that will go on top of it, and this is when Sorey starts to notice the little changes in Mikleo. 

Mikleo says nothing, he rarely does, but his posture gradually begins to change, to sag more and more as he reaches for more pieces. His expression turns for the pained more than once as they attach the first shelf, and Sorey considers what he should say. Mikleo is never happy about having to slow down. Sometimes, however, Sorey finds it hard not to insist. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning in and putting his shoulder lightly against Mikleo’s. “Why don’t we take a break for a bit?”

Mikleo stares at the cabinet and carefully not at Sorey. His eyebrows have drawn into a small frown. 

After a full ten seconds of thinking, he says “I’d rather have this done and over with.”

Sorey nods. His eyes are on the cabinet as well. 

“I know,” he says, “but this will take at least half an hour more. If you insist, I’ll continue it with you, but hear me out, okay?”

Mikleo looks at him expectantly. Sorey smiles. 

“We’re mostly done, and I can set the last few shelves myself later. Say we get some food and you watch me yolo this until it works?”

It is a testament to how Mikleo feels that he does not argue this time. Instead he just stares at the little white cabinet. He closes his eyes for a full five seconds. Sorey frowns. 

“What’s acting up?” Perhaps this flare is getting worse than he thought. 

“Head,” Mikleo says briefly. “My back. This shoulder.” He rolls the shoulder in question, and it is not the one Sorey so carefully leans on. Sorey nods. 

“How are your legs?”

“How are yours?” Mikleo asks, and he definitely has a point. They have been sitting on the floor for over an hour now, and Sorey’s legs feel awkward and aching from all the crawling necessary to wrangle IKEA furniture. He gently takes hold of Mikleo’s chin and looks into his eyes. 

“Rest,” he says. “For me?”

Mikleo sighs, then nods. “Fine.”

He moves to stand up, slow and stilted. Sorey is quickly on his feet, reaching to help him up, but Mikleo waves him off. He settles on the loveseat a few steps behind him. The look of relief on his face is visible, which means that Sorey should definitely be the one to get the food. 

“Blanket?” he asks. Mikleo simply nods, his eyes closed and his head leaned on the backrest of the seat. Sorey goes to fetch the blanket on the sofa. 

He makes them sandwiches in the kitchen while Mikleo curls up in the quiet living room. He wants to ask more questions, to see how Mikleo is doing more specifically, but he has learned by now that Mikleo during a flare is not energetic enough to deal with all that many questions. He’ll check in when it starts to let up again. 

He puts their sandwiches on the coffee table and instructs Mikleo to “scooch”, settling in under the blanket next to him and turning them sideways so they can lie down. Mikleo will wait to eat until his headache calms a bit, so Sorey makes short work of his sandwich and then curls around Mikleo to rest with him for a bit. 

Mikleo lays his head in the crook of Sorey’s shoulder and mumbles quietly, “This sucks.”

“It does,” Sorey agrees, “but I’m here, alright?”

“Right.” Mikleo nuzzles into his neck. “You’re quite useful too.”

Sorey smiles at that. “I’m glad.” Mikleo hums an agreement.. 

For a while they lay like that in silence. Mikleo needs the calm when his headaches get this bad, and Sorey finds himself in the early stages of falling asleep. It would probably not be a good idea but nestled in like this with Mikleo, the thought of it is quite tempting. 

He has almost done so, about an hour later, when Mikleo mutters against his neck. 

“What’s that thing called again?”

Sorey huffs. His smile is sleepy but wide. 

“Kolbjörn,” he says, and relishes Mikleo’s huff of laughter. He definitely butchered that one. 

“Bet you Zaveid can say it better,” He says, mischievous. 

Mikleo hums. “Or Rose.”

“Make a contest out of it?” Sorey says. Mikleo looks up. His eyes are warm. 

“Let Google Translate validate the winner?”

Sorey grins. He presses a kiss to Mikleo’s forehead, curls a little closer because he can. 

“Definitely.”


End file.
